


Truth

by rippedoutgrace



Series: Truth Will Free You [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:04:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rippedoutgrace/pseuds/rippedoutgrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn hates, Liam loves, Harry and Louis lust, and Niall knows the truth. </p>
<p>The idea behind this one follows this line from Ed Sheeran's "Kiss Me": <br/>'Yeah I've been feeling everything from hate to love from love to lust from lust to truth'</p>
<p>(This is so old, but I figured I'd post it anyway.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth

Sometimes Zayn hates him, jealousy leaving a bitter, acrid taste in his mouth. He chain smokes to taste the nicotine instead, hoping his hands aren’t shaking too much as he lifts each one to his mouth and down again. He watches from the balcony of their latest hotel, the little Irishman clinging to Liam inside, laughing over nothing.

 

It’s not fair. Why can’t he be so cheerful and carefree? He hates him for that. He hates that he has Liam’s attention and affection right now, as he sucks down yet another cigarette with no signs of slowing down.

 

He hates that he feels this way. Wallowing in self-pity when he should be inside with his best mates, acting ridiculous and enjoying the downtime. But his feelings for Liam are only intensifying over time and he hates himself for not standing up for what he wants. He especially hates that he hates Niall. How could anyone hate him? All blue eyes and messy hair, his accent acts as a balm over frazzled nerves and grumpy moods. As Zayn bends slightly to light another cigarette, he misses Liam’s lingering glance at him through the sliding doors.

 

Liam loves Niall. He does. He loves his Irish charm and his ability to eat anything and everything. He loves hugging the smaller lad; he gives the best hugs really. He laughs when girls scream _Niam! Niam!_ at their signings and hold signs up at the concerts. It’s adorable and sweet. He honestly loves the boy.

 

He’s like the little brother he never had. He feels waves of protectiveness over him. He knows he’s not as innocent as everyone seems to think, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to shield Niall from everything bad and terrible in the world. Sometimes he’ll watch him on stage marveling at how he works the crowd and how perfect he sounds in his solos, making the girls cheer and sing along. He admires Niall, cares for him, loves him.

 

While they’re sitting in the hotel room, he’s only half paying attention to whatever had Niall in hysterics moments ago. He’s watching someone else. He can barely see anything beyond his outline, it’s too dark outside now. But he does see the orange glow of a cigarette. He watches it start low, move high, glow brighter, before lowering again. He’s been watching for a while, wondering when Zayn will come inside. _Ow_.He frowns at Niall and rubs his ribs. “What was that for? I was listening.” Niall just rolls his eyes and continues chattering away.

 

Niall’s voice becomes a soothing background noise as he watches Zayn, or tries to at least. Unlike the brotherly love he feels for Niall, he loves Zayn. He _loves_ him. He loves how beautiful he is, his dark features make him stand out from the others. He loves his voice and how beneath the broody exterior, he’s also a good friend. They’ve stayed up nights talking about everything and nothing, Liam falling in love a bit more each time.

 

Whenever Zayn jokingly kisses Liam’s cheek or slings an arm around him, he flushes with pleasure, happy to be on Zayn’s mind even if it’s for a moment. He secretly lives for those brushes and teasing touches. He flushes thinking about it, this time in shame. He has a girlfriend, a lovely girl, and he shouldn’t have these feelings for his band mate. What would they all think of him, betraying Danielle like that for an unrequited love?

 

He knows it’s not returned. Sighing heavily, he continues watching the slow-moving orange glow, unaware that his feelings are plainly written across his face. Niall’s knowing eyes also escape his notice.

 

Two rooms down, Harry is also watching someone. He lies on his stomach across one of the double beds under the pretense of flipping through the television channels. But his eyes follow every movement of the other boy. He wonders if he’s the only one feeling the tension in the room. It’s nearly tangible in its weightiness.

 

Louis is standing half in the bathroom, half in the room wrapped in a towel carrying on a manic one-sided conversation around his toothbrush and Harry hears nothing, seeing only golden skin and _tummy_. He shifts slightly to lay on top of his hands so that he won’t do something crazy, like rip Louis’ towel away when he walks by and press his face to that perfect stomach, pulling at the light trail of hair below his belly button with his teeth.

 

He’s never questioned his sexuality, it’s just there and he doesn’t care. But it’s Louis. He’s ingrained himself so deeply into Harry’s mind and _fuck_ if Harry doesn’t want to pull that smaller body beneath him and worship every inch of skin. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he started lusting after the older boy but he wanted him and didn’t care how desperate he was getting.

 

Louis is now scampering around the room with his usual boundless energy, tossing clothes from his suitcase looking for _those_ sweatpants that he _must_ have and no, the grey ones won’t do, honestly, Hazza. He’s stalling. He’s seen the look in Harry’s eyes, the one that clearly screams _I want to tear your clothes off_. Funnily enough, he’s not wearing clothes yet. It’s not hard to miss though, since he knows it’s in his own eyes every time he’s near the curly haired boy.

 

Unlike Harry, he isn’t so sure about it all. He knows he wants it, _God_ does he want it. Falling into bed with abandon, everything else in the world be damned—management, Eleanor. He cringes a bit at her name in his head, but lust is powerful. It has no time for a guilty conscience, no time for second thoughts. He shrugs internally, and drops the towel, turning to Harry still lying on the bed watching him.

 

Harry’s audible intake of breath was encouragement enough.

 

Niall leaves his Liam to his worrying over Zayn and walks one room down. He pauses for a moment when a particularly loud thump comes from Louis and Harry’s room. _Well, finally_ he thinks, before entering his own room.

 

He perches at the end of the bed to slip off his shoes and shakes his head over his band mates. He loves them all but they aren’t the brightest, are they? He’s not blind, he can see the truth in each of their eyes.

 

He sees how much Liam struggles with his love for Zayn. He’s not oblivious to the glares he gets from the Bradford boy. What neither of them realize is that he’s extra touchy-feely with Liam lately in hopes that it will incite Zayn to _do_ something, instead of moping outside chain smoking. Terrible habit anyway.

 

He’s perfectly aware how Louis and Harry are always just barely in control of their emotions when it came to each other. How everyone dutifully ignores the sexual tension between them, as if it didn’t exist.

 

Truth. It’s always the best route. At least two-fifths of them have figured it out tonight. Niall hopes the other two will soon, for his sanity if not theirs. The truth is always so much easier than everyone thinks. He won’t press them though. Truth should be found, not forced. He finishes undressing before turning off the light and turning up the volume on his iPod. Just because Harry and Louis found their truth tonight, doesn’t mean he has to listen to it. 


End file.
